


To Crown a King

by larissita



Series: Back and into the rabbit hole [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, I don't know why my brain went there, Set in Prince Caspian, Underage for like a tiny second?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larissita/pseuds/larissita
Summary: The Pevensies should have crowned a King or Queen back in the Golden Age. 1300 years later they finally do it. It's both a relief and heartbreaking, a weight off their shoulders and a knot in their guts. There had been vows they had taken at their own coronation. It feels nice finally going through it, but it feels like a finality. And the simply hope Caspian understands the heaviness of the crown.
Relationships: Caspian/Edmund Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie & Lucy Pevensie & Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie, Miraz/Edmund Pevensie for a very short second
Series: Back and into the rabbit hole [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632655
Kudos: 69





	To Crown a King

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry this took so long, I am really not used to writing such long chapters, the first 2k words where easy, passed that it was actually a little painfull.

The attack on Miraz’ castle was a mess. It could have succeeded, it was very well planned after all, but Caspian was still a child and he had ran off to question his uncle and the plan had failed in an incredible way. Narnians had died and now Miraz was getting ready for war against them. They shouldn’t have brought Caspian with them, it wasn’t his fault but they would have succeeded otherwise. And Peter was beyond furious, they had just arrived to Aslan’s How and Lucy was waiting inside for the good news that would never come. This situation was messy, Peter was upset with Caspian, and Caspian felt like a child that was being punished. And Edmund was upset they had fuck up his perfectly good plan.

Now they had to think of something else and they didn’t have the advantage of surprise anymore, not really. Miraz and his men would be at the how by tomorrow and there wasn’t time. Edmund sat down by the table with Lucy for a moment, thinking things through, trying to find a solution. The Peter came all worried, searching for Caspian and they both had a very bad feeling, they ran down to where the table stone was, Trumpkin and Lucy running after them. Caspian was in a low cercle of ice, completely fascinated by the shadow of the white witch.

“Stop!”

Edmund was caught in his fight against the werewolf while Peter took care of the Hag and Trumpkin and Lucy took care of the other dwarf. He could hear Caspian being pushed aside by Peter. 

“Peter, dear. I’ve missed you. Come. Just one drop. You know you can’t do this alone.”

Her voice send a shiver down Edmund’s back. He could never forget that voice, too soft, too sweet, too sticky. Like honey sticking to your fingers that he wished to clean away but when you look closer you realise it’s tar and you’ve been trapped to your death. And Edmund shivers in disgust, he can taste the warm chocolat and the sticky turkish delights, his tongue is sticking against the roof of his mouth and his hand is sticking around his sword and he pushes his sword forward. And the ice shatters. Sending small pieces everywhere and breaking a horrible spell. Peter is watching with large eyes, fear written in his face at what had nearly happen. And Caspian has only gotten up from the floor, both surprise and admiration painted on his face.

“I know, you had it sorted.”

Edmund quickly ran away, he couldn't. Something seemed to be pressing on his chest, something must have been twisting his gut. The taste of turkish delights seemed to stay in his mouth no matter what, making him want to puke. His breathing was getting shorter and he could feel something wet against his side. The world seemed to be spinning too fast, he was going to pass out and he still couldn’t catch his breath. He stumbled in a small room, he could hear steps following him, all he could do was sit his head between his knees, trying to breath as the panic slowly passed.

“King Edmund. Are you okay? You seem to be bleeding.”

“What? Caspian?”

“Yes King Edmund, you seem to be bleeding. Here, I will take care of it.” Silence followed as Caspian wrapped Edmund’s wound. None of them quite sure what to say. Caspian finally decided to break the silent, uncomfortable in the too quiet space.

“When I was a child, my nurse used to tell me stories of the old Narnia, of the kings and queens of old, of talking animals.”

Edmund chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, what a strange thing to think, a lifetime ago he had been someone worthy of tales and stories, nymphs and sirens had sung about them, fauns had played songs for them.

“How deceived you must have felt, prince Caspian, once you saw the oh, so great golden rulers of the old Narnia. Nothing but children, fumbling in a forest, trying to find their people after 1300 years of abandon.”

“I- no your majesty, it was certainly a shock but not a bad one, merely a surprise.”

Edmund laughed again, how common, a polite little prince like so many he had met before, unprepared to politics and backwards insults hidden as compliments. But how cute it was, how refreshing to have an equal after so long in dready old London.

“What did the stories tell you? About me and my siblings?”

“Oh! They spoke of great battles and many tales.” Suddenly Caspian seemed to turn shy as if he wasn’t quite sure what his next words should be yet couldn’t stop them from coming out. “As a kid, I used to imagine that by some trick of magic I would meet the kings and queens of old. And I made friends, the life in the castle was very lonely for the child of a king, I could never play with the kids of the servants and those noble were told by their parents to ask for favours and such…”

“Who was your favourite then? Was it Peter? Or did you imagine making one of my sisters into your first girlfriend?” Edmund asked with a smile on his face, this conversation was perhaps the most entertaining he had had in awhile, Caspian’s laugh was a bonus.

“No, your majesty, I was too young to think of girlfriends, and even though I admire High King Peter a great deal he was not the center of my imagination. I must admit, that it was his majesty the Just King who seemed to fascinate me the most.” Edmund could have swore that Caspian’s cheek seemed to get deeper in colour.

“Well I imagine your’s and Peter’s friendship would be very explosive. I imagine you would have spent most time fighting until you were both black and blue.”   
“I agree, his majesty’s friendship would be a better balance I think, much more enjoyable.There, all done your highness, it was only a cut. It should heal just fine.”

“Thank you Caspian, it’s very nice of you. And it’s Edmund, we’re equals after all. Now, if you excuse I have to go and scream on my stupid brother to fix this situation.”

And King Edmund left. All thought and idea of the white queen forgotten, pushed away to the back of his mind. Edmund made his way to the principal room of Aslan’s How, Peter, Susan and Lucy already there with all the other narnians. 

“Have you thought of a solution to our current situation Peter?”   
“I have actually, we could call upon an official fight, one on one, we defeat him and it’s over.” Peter’s voice was incredibly serious, calling attention in the room, silencing everyone else.   
“And who will fight? And under what pretense exactly?” Edmund frowned, he could feel Peter’s idea being a bad one.

“I will fight of course! And the why is usurpation of course, it is what he did.”

“I want to be the one to fight my uncle, it is my right!”

Soon there was another argument between Peter and Caspian, Susan and Lucy trying to argue. All of it giving him a beautifully big headache. Edmund of course exploded, how could he not?

“Enough! Caspian fighting your uncle yourself is a very bad idea, not only will he not take a challenge from you seriously. But he knows how you fight, your tutors and such, he will beat you. As for the pretense, usurpation is flimsy at best Peter, Narnia was without ruler for more than a thousand years, the Telmarines won by conquest. And you can hardly fight him, I’m a better swordsman than you so I should fight him.”

“Ed, I know you got hurt earlier, you will absolutely not fight him. Any fight you send or receive can be taken in charge by the head of house, which I am. So, I’m the one that will fight. Can just please draft a missive to send the former challenge? To make sure he will answer to the challenge, then we’ll send someone to deliver it?”

“Fine, I will draft and deliver it, to make sure he bites. I will deliver it myself Peter, and you should practice with Caspian. He’s seen his uncle fight so that can be useful.”

Exhaustion was clearly written on Edmund’s face, dealing with a furious Peter was always the same, even after all those years but he would never exchange those moments. So he sat down close to the table with a small parchemin, a feather and some ink. His hands still somehow used to doing this. The next morning Edmund left to Miraz’ soldier camp, he arrived between a centaur and a geant, a minotaur following not too far behind . Once in walking distance he left his horse at the exit of the camp before going in to the royal tent. A soldier announced their arrival and the just king took only a second to present the challenge.

“I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands. In order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood do hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat upon the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender.”

The proper formulation was always such a hassle to say at loud, really it wasn’t Edmund’s favourite. Edmund used this moment of silence to look at the charlatan “King”. Really there where so many tells of his early fall. Edmund could see the looks between his generals. He could feel the tension. Even if Peter didn’t kill him Miraz would have at most 5 or 10 years of power before a civil war came knocking on his door. Edmund looked away a little, he knew Miraz was assessing him, clearly curious. Edmund wondered if perhaps Miraz had heard of them, of the old tales of ancient kings and queens. Perhaps Miraz imagined Edmund to be similar to himself, a king living in his brother’s shadow. Perhaps… It would be so improper but Edmund wondered if perhaps some of the more peculiar sexual “tastes” of the Calormen had been shared by the Telmars.

“Tell me Prince Edmund-”

“It’s King.”

“Pardon me?”

“It’s King Edmund, actually. But Just King, Peter is the High King. I know, it’s confusing.”

Edmund looked back at him, a smile and a tilt of the head, showing barely any skin of his neck. Oh, perhaps the taste was shared. How deeply amusing. Truth was a dark part of him liked this in a completely twisted way. After all, him and Susan had made a dangerous game out of it. Peter and Lucy had been all smiles and honesty, war and peace. Edmund and Susan had made treaties, forced some things in a much more gentle way. Promises and sweet words, a look, a smile, a touch, such things had been so much easier to used for them.

“Why… Risk such a proposal when our amies could wipe you out by nightfall?”

“Haven’t you already underestimated our numbers? I mean only a week ago narnians were extinct.”

Another smile pulling at the corner of his lips. How easy it was to toy with this charlatan king. Edmund send another look, one clearly stating: wouldn’t that be sad, I’m such a delightful creature myself. And he could see Miraz’ eyes go a little wide, he was losing focus. Really, how easy it was.

“And so you shall be again.”

“Then you should have little to fear.”

Another look again, this time a more dangerous look. After all this was the same body language Susan had used with Rabadash, and the Calormen had started a war for her hand in marriage despite every reasonable thought. It was a gesture that clearly said: come and get me, conquer and win me. Surely Edmund could get Miraz to agree to fight without much repercussion. Edmund slowly pushed some of his hair behind his ear, his fingertips slowly dragging on his skin. There, right there Miraz’ breath had caught in his throat.

“Ha! This is not a question of bravery.”

“So, you’re bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?”

“I didn’t say I refused.”

And you won’t refuse. Because Miraz was greedy and hot-headed. He wanted things he could never have and he was incapable of not responding to a challenge. And then his generals got involved, because they were his weakest support. The men had clearly no respect for him, and his task was made so much easier.

“You shall have our support your majesty, whatever your decision.”

“Sire, our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid whatever-”

“I’m not avoiding anything!”

“I was merely pointing out my lord is well within his rights to refuse.”

“His majesty would never refuse, he relishes the chance to show the people the courage of the new king.”

“You. You should hope your brother’s sword is sharper than his pen.”

“The challenge will take place in two days’ time, at Aslan’s How.”

Really this was no king. Merely a child playing with his little bully friends. Only the biggest bully in the courtyard. Edmund barely nodded his head before turning away and walking right out of the campment, leaving behind the usurper child playing king. He rushed out, adrenaline high in his veins, it had certainly been awhile since he had played with a prey.

The fight had taken place, and so had the ensuing battle. And with a single battle, the war was won. The situation was such a far away cry from the long war shaking their own world. They all knew there was little else for them to do in Narnia and they would soon be called home. But before leaving, they would crown their heir, the future king. It’s what they should have done 1300 years ago to avoid the exact situation they came back to fix. For now Narnia feasted, happiness overflowing, tomorrow they would crown Caspian king. Tonight, was a celebration of the battle won and as such Miraz' castle had been taken over by Narnians.

Music and sweet wine seemed to fill and overflow in the room. The mourning would have to wait, for now everyone was ecstatic with joy, drunk on victory. The old narnians were dancing around the room, like so many times before. The pevensies could see ghosts. Lucy could imagine Tumnus among the fauns, his hooves hitting the floor in rhythm. Edmund, much to Peter’s dismay, was dancing with Lucy among the dryads, crowns of flower now decorating their hair. He was dancing among the dryads like he had so many times before. Susan was going around the room, making conversation, so used to other evenings, evenings where her meddling had been necessary for peace. Peter felt like a ghost himself, he was back in Narnia and he was no longer king, not really. He could see the looks addressed to Caspian, the old narnians and telmars alike could see their future king. He was here, nothing but a footnote of a history book yet to be written. He no longer belonged to Narnia, and a part of him felt like this was the last time here. Maybe with some time he could come to accept what would become.

Not too far, Susan was talking to a worried Caspian. The prince was clearly worried about the coronation tomorrow.

“Something on your mind prince Caspian?”

“Tomorrow, I will be crowned king of Narnia, but I must be honest with your highness. I do not feel ready for such a burden. I do not understand how I must be king over those who were crowned before me.”

Susan could do nothing but smile, remembering their own crowning. How innocent they had been. They had know nothing of the consequences and nothing of their duties. They had taken the crowns, light on their heads without knowing how heavy the actually were. She finally took pity on Caspian.

“No one who knows what reigning entails actually feels ready. It’s good that you feel nervous. As for being King to those who reigned before, well Lucy was the first crowned.”

She knew that Caspian would understand when the time was right. Within a few instants, realisation seemed to take over Caspian’s eyes. Like much of foreign kings and queens, they had assumed that Peter had been crowned first and the rest had been crowned with age. It was, of course, not the case. Lucy had been the first in Narnia. Lucy had been the first to give people hope. She had been the first to do her duty as a queen even if she knew not of it. And as such, Lucy was the first amongst them to be crowned. As Caspian, seemed to get a little lost within his own mind, Susan started to walk away, he had much to think about.

“You will be fine Caspian, enjoy the party. Tomorrow you will be king. Go dance with Edmund and Lucy or something.”

Caspian stayed there, frozen in his spot, looking around, his mind detached from his body. How could he shoulder a whole country. Such thing seemed impossible. A hand was suddenly pulling on his, a dryad pulling at his attention before putting a flower crown on his hair. He looked at her, still a little lost before she pulled him again, taking him to the circle of dancer that had naturally formed in the ballroom. The middle held Lucy and Edmund, both seemed completely abandoned to the music. Bodies moving with practiced ease, eyes closed in delight, they each took one of Caspian hand’s. And just like waves, tooked him with them until late in the night.

The crowning took place as the sun passed his zenith. New narnians and old ones assembled in the traitor’s king castle (as Miraz would become known in history books). The sun seemed to be shining down on the beginning of a new day as a prince to become king stand before the throne, right knee on the floor, hands on the hilt of his sword. Four monarques, two kings and two queens, stood before him and before the room. The people seemed to stand still. It reminded the Pevensies of their own crowning (even though Aslan had crown them). But it was at least similar in the fact that both Aslan and them, were not as present as they should have been.

“Do you, prince Caspian, swear by Aslan’s name to care for the people of Narnia? As from now on, old and new, will form one.”

“I swear by Aslan’s name.”

“Then I, Queen Lucy the Valiant, from the glistening eastern sea, from where the sun rises every morning and every new cycle begins, crown you, Caspian, King of Narnia."

"Do you, prince Caspian, swear by Aslan's name to uphold peace within Narnia, with all of your might?"

"I swear by Aslan's name."

"Then I, Queen Susan the Gentle, from the radiant southern sun, where the sun shines as it's hardest and brings prosperity, crown you, Caspian, King of Narnia."

"Do you, prince Caspian, swear by Aslan's name to protect Narnia, by war if needed until your last drop of blood is spilled on the battlefield?"

"I swear by Aslan's name."

"Then I, High King Peter the Magnificent, from the northern skies, where the sun shines truth upon Narnia, crown you, Caspian, King of Narnia."

"Do you, prince Caspian, swear by Aslan's name to do your best to respect the vows you take as a king."

"I swear by Aslan's name."

"Then I, King Edmund the Just, from the great Western woods, where the sun goes to die every day and as it will die on your reign and eventually, will set forever on Narnia, crown you, Caspian, King of Narnia. From today on, you belong to Narnia, until the day you die and even after. You blood will belong to it's battlefield, your love to it's next king or queen. Understand your vows, and do not break them, once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens."

Their words a repetition from the past, mimics of the words of a lion. Now they understand the vows they took so long ago. They all hope Caspian understand them better. And people break in applause, incredibly happy to have an actual narnian king after 1300 years. And the Pevensies know they have to go. They know it, within their bones, and for Peter and Susan it tastes like finality. So when Aslan shows up at the end of the parade, they know, and they bare their necks for the judgement of the Lion. People cross between the trees. Then it’s their turn and Susan kisses Caspian. Except not really. She doesn’t kiss Caspian, Susan was never one for tender feelings towards men. She kisses Narnia goodbye in that kiss. And she hopes Caspian understands it at such (he does not, not until three years after for him).

So the Pevensies cross between the worlds. Finding themselves on a bench to take the train to get to school. The only consolation they possessed it’s their duty done in crowning a king.

“Damn, I forgot my new torch in Narnia."


End file.
